Ink

"Joey doesn't share food!!!!" How would you like to see that quote tattooed on my arm? My youngest daughter thought it was funny as hell. Same with "we were on a break". She and I spent a lot of time watching Friends together, we like to laugh and we have the same kind of sense of humour. Case in point, she got back from Europe on Sunday with what she called a dagger and most people would call a small sword. What did she do at customs? Declared it as a letter opener. My oldest daughter remarked that she was so much daddy's daughter.  Yep

Back to the tattoo though. I met a friend recently and we were talking about tattoos, specifically what she had and was planning on adding to her body ink. And as she talked about her plan it suddenly all came into focus for me. I have toyed with the idea of a tattoo of my own but couldn't think of anything that meant that much to me in that way. Suddenly I knew...no real surprise here, a quote! Of course, it makes sense now. So I'm stealing her idea "To thine own self be true" I might add the "This above all:" beginning part depending on how it looks.

Well that's step one I guess. I have a direction to go in, now I need to go further and plan it out and actually go through with the process. As in many things the first step is the big one. I can't believe it never came to me before this. I came somewhat close once years ago while visiting PEI one summer. But between the $75 for a small maple leaf tat and the fact I wasn't really feeling it in the first place, I backed away. I suppose it wasn't right for me at that point. Only now does it feel like the right thing to do. Right for me.

I've met a lot of people over the years with tattoos and while I'm not judging the practice one can't help and wonder what some of them were thinking when they decided to ink up. Had a guy working for me with all his arms tattooed up in Gothic style calligraphy, and his last name was the focal point. Are you in danger of forgetting your name? Or another guy with a bar code tattooed on his neck. I wanted to ask him if I could scan him but he was a tad scary so I thought better of it. My personal favourite was a declaration of everlasting love to a woman that this fellow ended up divorcing. Might be hard to find a new life long love named Gert or something similar. Choose wisely young sir.. You too young lady. Oh, and please check your spelling and accuracy on what that Chinese symbol really stands for. Hate to go through the rest of your days with the Chinese symbol for hemorrhoids on your lower back. Oh, and avoid profanity, it shouldn't be needed if you are doing your job right.

I'll keep you posted for when I do decide to go ahead with it. Someone tell me how much it hurts please. I've had kidney stones so I can relate to pain. Oh..."kidney stones" also from friends...hahaha

Well, I should run.

Ciao
D

This thing of ours

A homage to "La Cosa Nostra" this is not, or maybe it is.  I don't know, leave me alone it's Monday afternoon after all.

I'm sure every profession has it's own sense of oneness, of the us and the everyone else. We have professional associations to promote ideas and ideals, to provide a sense of belonging to a larger "family".  The Association of Cartographers, Well Drillers, Mimes and Mummers.  You name it there is probably an association or union for them. These are the public faces of an industry or profession, designed to provide a unified front and gloss over the dirt. And dirt there is. Lots of it. My chosen field is no different; maybe worse than most.  Although I hear engineers are really bad.

Anthony Bourdain became the globe trotting commentator he is after he wrote a book called Kitchen Confidential. An accounting of his messed up life and the industry that fed it, sustained it and almost killed it. It was a pretty accurate telling of the world of kitchens and save for a few years in age difference and a few thousand miles of geography it could have been my story. There are chapters that talk of eerily similar experiences either with me or people I knew. Before anyone goes jumping the gun and making assumptions, I was not and never have been addicted to anything in my life and I didn't come close to the, shall we say free flowing promiscuous mores that he wrote extensively about. I'm sure it happened around me to a degree, but I'd say the onslaught of AIDS in the 80's really put the damper on a lot of the sexual favours on the flour sacks in the store room. Not that I didn't try of course...read the post on being the "friend". Or maybe I really am that naive.

Here are some things you may want to know about the chefs and cooks that prepare your food, in no particular order.

• We are or can be masochists, no time for weakness which morphs into treating our selves pretty badly with regards to health and wellness
• We swear. A lot. I use the word fuck as punctuation. I've been at family gatherings and left them cursing simply because I needed to curse. As an extension, I don't trust people that don't swear. You don't have to be the "F" bomb king but I do need to hear the occasional rant peppered brightly with expletives 
• We work a lot, especially when we are younger building our careers. 90 hour weeks were not unusual in my younger days. And we pay it for later in life. When you are enjoying your romantic Valentines Day dinner at an inflated price, we are actually cooking that dinner for you.
• We don't like you. You, the customer, are never right but we bend over backwards to make you feel like you are. You show up five minutes before closing and we really hate you. 
• You have health or allergy concerns, as in you are deathly allergic to garlic or onions - best you stay home, because garlic is everywhere. Don't get me started on vegans
• You can cook for us. We're happy to not have to cook. But if I am cooking expect it to be simple; BBQ anyone?
• We have a fucked up sense of humour. A years and years long combination of heat, cramped quarters, long days and nights, never enough tea towels, raw meat and sharp knives means we look at the world differently. Read my blog posts for examples...my brain works funny
• Wine is supposed to go with food, drink good wine
• We can be the most loyal people in the world, so if you cross us or throw us under the bus, you are dead to us. Sadly this trait is not as prevalent as it once was in far too many people
• The dishwasher is the most important person in the kitchen, I treat mine like gold
• We can turn just about any song lyric into something sexual
• There is a lot of ink in the place. None for me yet, but I am creeping closer to one. Thanks to a good friend of mine. More on that later.

I could go on but you are, I'm sure, getting a clearer picture. Scared? Don't be. Most of us can adapt relatively well to the "normal" world. Borderline personalties aside we can get through Christmas dinner without stabbing you with a fork.

A little glimpse into this world of mine. Just served a lunch for 135 people as I sit in my office typing this to you, I can hear dishes clanging, cooks prepping for the next function, line cooks are getting ready for service tonight, servers cleaning up and wheeling carts around. Scavengers looking or extra food can be heard walking through the area; try not wearing heels and you might slip by unnoticed by the way. I can tell by the sound of the kitchen if things are going well. Sort of like Radar in MASH, it's my superpower. Well, one of them.

Ciao

D

Food! Glorious Food!

Please sir, I want some more.

That iconic declaration for another bowl of gruel from Mr. Bumble led into the glorious and equally iconic little ditty that this post is named for. At least I think that's how it worked. As an aside, before I launch into my food centric post, ask me later about how a pretty girl in my grade three class found me singing Oliver tunes in a mall in suburbia way back when. Told you my brain works funny.

Being involved in the hospitality industry for the better part of 30 plus years now one would expect that I might have something to say about food. Glorious food! Well, you would be right. Some memorable gastronomic tales abound to be sure, but I feel like talking about some of the milestones.

When I was 16 or 17 my parents dragged my sister and I to Europe to visit the old country for five weeks. In this case, the former Yugoslavia for 4 weeks and France for one week before jetting home. Of all the meals we ate one stands out as still one of the best things I have ever eaten, and it speaks to the way I look at food now. We had arrived at my mom's house where she grew up, on a little island off the coast of Zadar in a town called Kukljica. Tired and probably miserable from the whole travelling thing, we made our way into the walled compound setting of the old house. To get to the bedrooms you went outside, up a set a stairs and traversed an open air balcony to the individual rooms. Sounds exotic and stately but I assure you it was a normal type of house there.  Charming as all get out with a delicious well in the courtyard. Once settled we made our way down to the kitchen/dining area where we sat down to the most incredible tomatoes I have ever eaten. I can still smell them. I yearn for them. A light sprinkle of salt and some crusty bread...those wedges of red juicy flavourful tomatoes were simply divine. Pretty simple but my God how I remember them. We ate many meals while traipsing around the country but that stands out as number one. A close second would be at my God Father's house. A chef as well, he had this amazing out door fireplace/oven thing going on. A whole chicken, some potatoes and other vegetables were placed on some sort of earthen clay platter, covered with a similar dome and pushed into the embers of the a fire.  A few hours later, best chicken dinner ever. Again, simple but so good. Made all the better by the convivial setting. A beautiful day surrounded by  my crazy family passing around an old wooden handled drinking jug known as a bukara that you would all share from. Stained a deep burgundy over the years you just knew it had a lot of history, and wine, behind it. While I am sure I didn't appreciate it at the time, I was experiencing what I think Europeans do best, call it joie de vivre, il dolce far niente, it doesn't matter. Enjoying the simplicity and beauty that can be our lives. Please sir, I want some more.

The very first time I ate Thai food. Where have you been all my life? A good friend of mine from culinary school took me out for Thai before Thai became huge. He spent some time in Thailand growing up and was the most worldly person I had known to that point in my life. My memory of him always inspires me to try new things, such as this time eating Thai. I confess that growing up I was almost duty bound to eat like the Italians and Croatians that I grew up with. We had the best school lunches, veal sandwiches, mortadella, chicken cutlets...all yummy. I like peanut butter sure but I don't ever recall bringing it to school. This carried on until culinary school when I was exposed to new things and new food. It was still heavily influenced by French cooking. Actually, almost completely French. The French owe their standing in the world to the Italians but you would have been hard pressed to find great Italian influence in the college back in the late 80's.  Forget anything remotely recognizing Japanese, Chinese or anything else considered "exotic". But by stepping out into the world and trying things with school chums I was taking baby steps leading to where I am now. Regardless, when Peter suggested Thai food I was a little apprehensive, the whole comfort zone thing here. But my God was I glad I went.  One bite and I was smitten. Vibrant flavours and textures with an explosion of taste in my mouth. Thai basil, lemon grass, Thai style curry...cue the salivating. Simplicity and complexity in every bite, layers of flavour.....mmmmmmmm. That meal set the course for what I love to eat now...anything ethnic really. How can Pad Thai and Lamb Vindaloo be considered comfort food for me? Because I love it so. Please sir, I want some more.

Truffles restaurant at the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto is no more but the memory of one fine meal there lingers forever. My ex-wife and I dined there twice but the first time was truly magical, encapsulated to me the day in clinical terms by a colleague...a gastronomic orgasm. Pretty much. When I called to make a reservation I was warmly greeted by Emile, which made me chuckle because I was thinking of Emile Schaffhausen from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels...hehehe.  Anyway, we arrived and were treated like returning special guests, purely professional and polished. We ordered chocolate soufflé in advance and sipped on wine while waiting for simplicity personified in my appetizer. Five ingredients. Spaghettini, butter, salt, reggiano cheese and black truffles. Sublime and powerful at the same time. I don't remember talking and probably didn't share the dish either. I'm almost certain that when our server came to ask how everything was I looked up with a dumb look on my face and let my expression do the talking. Please tell Chef Chin that he is Picasso. I know I ate veal and the chocolate soufflé and they were all very good, but the spaghettini was and is the stuff dreams are made of.  Please sir, I want some more.

I will admit that I enjoyed accolades when they came my way when I ran my own place. I don't know if I ever created memories like the ones I described but I have received my fair share of praise from happy diners. Not to mention a few marriage proposals. It feels good to be recognized for your talents and my rather large noggin would swell up a bit more when a guest would take the time to voice their appreciation. I enjoy pleasing people and I sometimes miss that direct connection I have with the guest but not enough to go back to that life...my job is now the grand organizer and facilitator and that's good. Let the younger guys and gals work the line and have late nights. Been there done that, you know what I mean. I'll reserve my chops for special someone's and friends.

I think in the end what gives me great pleasure now is that connection we have over food and drink. A beer on a patio listening to tunes, a glass of wine over interesting conversation, a meal shared between friends, between lovers...it really all revolves around the "us" and the drinks and food are the side dishes. Our time is made that more enjoyable with the addition of favourite flavours. Perhaps making memories that will last a life time as we enjoy each others company. Please sir, I want some more.

À votre santé
D

Raconteur much

When I die I want to come back as an Irish man. I want to be skilled at telling a good story and I think the Irish do it well. If some blarney is thrown in for colour I am ok with that. A little embellishment never hurt right? Great.

I love a good story.  I love telling them and I love hearing them. A simple but truly effective way to learn about people.  Be it for friendship or for other reasons, a lot can be gleaned from how a story is told.  At least I think so.  Like I said, I love a good story.

One of my former business partners is Filipino and his dad was recounting a time when his brother came to visit them in Toronto. He had to take a street car somewhere and as he stepped onto the platform of the vehicle, asked the driver if this street car went to Yonge street.  An emphasis on the silent "e"...Yongeeee street.  The driver, not feeling the need to engage the potential passenger, simply pointed at the fare box and sat silent. Our intrepid traveller, not knowing what to do, asked again; does this street car go to Yonge street?  Again, a gesture to the fare box. So in a somewhat miraculous sense of reasoning, visitor to the city, grasped the fare box with both hands, lowered his head to the top of the fare box and in a crisp loud voice spoke into the fare box....DOES THIS STREET CAR GO TO YONGEEEEE STREET? I fell of the bar stool I was perched on from laughter. Excellent. Hell, I'm chuckling as I am recounting this to you.

I tease my kids that when they get married, as the father I get to say a few words at their ceremony. Dressed in my baby blue tux with orange ruffled shirt I will find something funny to recount about them to the adoring crowds. They know me as just unhinged enough that I actually might do something for the simple joy of doing it.  I love a good story.

I could recount my young sons infatuation with the colour green when he was toddler and how, while making a pit stop he looked up in pure joy at the green, ahem, thing floating in the toilet.  The result of the bright green ice cream he ate an hour prior. Probably not, no one wants to hear about poo at a wedding reception.  Right? Or perhaps recounting my eldest daughters strong will and resolve.  Even as a toddler...I was trying to get her into a car seat and she had other ideas. Stiffened like a 2x10 and try as I might I could not bend her into the seat. I'm sure it looked pretty funny from passers by. Tickling ended up being the magic switch.

Turning everyday events in my own life into stories is part of who I am. Ask me about falling asleep at the wheel with a police car behind me or the time I crossed over a 23 story chasm to change out air filters. Or.....well, you get the idea I am sure. And I can't give everything away here right?

My former father in law told good stories. At weddings he was always someone looked forward to for his speech. I'm not a huge fan of public speaking but I think I hide my nervousness well enough to get by. Some people are simply really good at spinning a yarn or making a story something that everyone in the room can relate to.  Like the Irish.

I think it would be fun to attend some of those story telling groups that get together over a pint like The Moth in New York or, even more interesting, the resurgence of story telling in pubs across Ireland and Great Britain...road trip!!!! If this exists in Halifax please let me know.

Well, I am yawning like all get out now.  Time to crawl under my desk, a la George Costanza, for a nap.

Ciao
D

Dear Pope Francis

Hello Vicar of Christ,

Also known as the Bishop of Rome.  Nice titles.  I personally like Supreme Allied Commander Europe as the best job title, something about the word supreme that just feels more powerful when bestowed upon a mere mortal. I go by Chef.  So much so that people in social situations that don't even work for me any more call me Chef.  I've also been called Jeff by strangers in these social situations.  A nice chuckle for me to be sure.

But again, I digress.

Dear Pope Francis,

I confess that I am no longer a member of your flock.  I left organized religion six or seven years ago because, quite simply, I couldn't do the hypocrisy thing.  It's not a question about God...it's about religion.  I won't bore you with all the platitudes that people will spout out about religion causing more death then any other force.  Nor will I pontificate about the double standards, unseemly behaviour and breach of trust that has seemed to plague your church and most others.  Rather, I am writing to say that I find you interesting.  Oh, and you look like my dad.  So much so that when you were elected and I saw your picture I asked my sister to go check on him to make sure he hadn't wandered off into the wrong area...from his lazy boy in Hamilton no less.

I find you refreshing.  You truly do seem to be interested in "God's work".. Eschewing normal church behaviours you have donned disguise to minister to the poor and homeless in Rome.  You push back against the back drop of extravagance that Vatican City bestows upon your position. More importantly you have pushed back on hot button issues such as gay marriage and divorce.  I'm sure not quickly enough or strong enough for some but you are doing so.  Incrementalism is not a bad thing and for people to assume you can change a behemoth as large as the Catholic Church over night is just plain stupid.  But I suspect you know that.

What you have done is change the direction of the church a bit.  One hopes for the better.  Ordain women, let priests marry and perform gay marriages...do you think that would change the fortunes of the church.  Think of the troubles that you can eliminate by those three actions.  Of course, conservative zealots would scheme to take away your white hat, red shoes and the pope mobile but maybe the act of shifting the discussion is why you are here in the first place.  If so, you sir, are doing Gods work.

I grew up under Pope John Paul 2.0; and while he was a well liked fellow he didn't do liberal much did he.  Sure he played a part in destroying communism but where was he on gay rights? I also spent much of my formative life in the Catholic School system in Ontario. Where we had brothers and priests teaching us biology and history. I never really saw the irony back then, for if I did I probably would have been cast out as a heretic.  Or had my own exorcism...nice.  Sorry. Despite this upbringing at school and to a much lesser extent at home, I wasn't a literal kind of believer. I believed in the lesson.  Still do.  If I do or don't do something it may come from my sense of what is right based on religion..how can it not be after all since I was in the system for a long time.  But I wonder if I wouldn't still be a good person if I hadn't learned to kneel a lot.  That's rhetorical; of course I would still be good.  Oh, and thanks for the messed up knees.

And the music. Some of the music is so uplifting. Soulful. What is your favourite? I like Be Not Afraid and Amazing Grace, they are classics.  And Ave Maria when done right...pure magic.  I remember once in the little church in Lunenburg a fellow playing guitar and singing Gentle Women, Hail Mary. I don't know much but I know it was one of the most powerful things I have ever heard. It was understated and pure.  Look I have goosebumps. Is it the music or the message?  Both likely. True story time.  Since I have left the church I have had occasion to go for various reasons and I have felt like I wasn't allowed to enjoy the music as I wasn't a member of the club any more. Strange eh? I wonder if you can answer that.  Why would I feel like I didn't belong.  Was it me or was it the way the church acts towards people that are not following the rules? If you'd like to discuss please send the pope plane for me and we chat over wine sometime....I would like that.

I'm sure you would agree that the church has a long way to go but maybe, just maybe you have started it on a path to true transfiguration. I'd like to think the better angels nestled right up to you on this.  Best of luck and God speed.

Ciao
D

Impressions

Name something about your personality that you like.  Go ahead.  Be honest.  I won't be testing you on this.  OK, did you name a bunch?  I did.  I'm no expert in, well anything really, but social behaviour was where I was going with this but I suspect that a lot of us would have put down what we hope other people see in us.  A validation of some sort I guess, again not being an expert or anything similar.

The on-line dating world is chock a block full with people trying to make impressions.  Some do it with a picture, some with a picture and a write up on their profile and some simply with their write up.  I find it both aggravating and terribly interesting to figure out the real person behind the profile. I joke that I'm going to write a book about my dating experiences because there are simply too many good stories out there to leave them untold.  Mind you, the stories aren't all good, people being people means there are a fair share of negative stories.  Perspective plays a huge roll I think in how we end up dealing with it all.

So genius man, what impressions are you making out there?  I don't know, you tell me.

If I had to choose something that I like about my personality, I might say my naivete and probably my sense of humour, such as it is. And if I'm being honest, I'm not worrying about making an impression, I'm interested in being myself.  My humour is for me.  If other people find it funny, great, if not...I'm ok with that as well.  My naivete is another subject entirely but again, it's my naivete, intrinsically tied to my outlook on life and what I find important.  Read the list of quotes in my last posting to see what inspires, humours and confuses me...and all of that is tied to the tapestry of my life.  There is that word again!

My dad used to say that how many languages you speak that is how many men you are.  That's pretty cool.  I like to go further and say that the same sentiment applies to many aspects of how many "men" you are. Seeing that I can't speak any other languages other than English, and not very well sometimes, I may be grasping at straws but I don't think so.  Oh, I can still swear a bit in Croatian if that is any help.  We all have played the greater fool to some extent in our lives.  I think it is an inescapable truth to us as humans that we act irrationally against all facts.  So what I say.  It was a moment in time, not the be all and end all of our stories.  If we are being honest with ourselves, and we really should be, given the opportunity, would you make a different decision? I would have still opened the B & B.  Is that the right choice?  In hind sight, possibly not, in the moment, yep. Remember, no regrets.

I will pass along something that a dear friend of mine said to me once.  She said I reminded her of a summer market in Provence, an old Italian fellow whistling at girls in the piazza and an Irish gentleman setting off on a long walk down a country road.  I can't whistle but my God did I ever like that sentiment.  In my bones I know I belong in Europe for extended parts of the year and I am taking baby steps to realizing that goal down the road...and if successful, I think those three images of me will suit me well.

I can't wait...maybe you will come for a visit.

Ciao
D

Just because...

"This is the worst party I've ever been to. And I was at Jonestown" – Gracie & Frankie

“You know the Greeks didn't write obituaries. They only asked one question after a man died: Did he have passion?" – Serendipity

“Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will 

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” – Tennyson

“When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold on to them. They are the life boats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely illusive. So the question becomes, or should have been all a long... What would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What life boat would you grab on to? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfil? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write?” – One Week

“I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” – Mahatma Gandhi

 "In a gentle way, you can shake the world." - Mahatma Gandhi

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” - Margaret Mead

“All you need is love” – The Beatles

“Drink, drink, drink oh fiddly dink, I can dance with a drink in my hand” – Elvis Presley

“What contemptible scoundrel stole the cork from my lunch?” – W.C Fields

“Days turn to minutes
And minutes to memories
Life sweeps away the dreams
That we have planned
You are young and you are the future
So suck it up and tough it out
And be the best you can” - John Mellencamp

“Does any one know where the love of God goes

when the waves turn the minutes to hours?” – Gordon Lightfoot

“Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play” – Leonard Cohen

“I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me” - Rush

“If you want to improve be content to be thought foolish and stupid” – Epictetus

“Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.” – The Godfather

 “Boronus, boretis, boremus. I came, I saw, I bored” - MASH

Filters! We don't need no stinking filters!

Top of the morning to ya!  Sunny beautiful but not entirely warm day today in Halifax.  And that is the extent of my small talk skill set.  It actually hurt me to write that.  I can't do small talk, I missed that day at school.  Same with the day they introduced "x" into math class and quite a bit of grammar I think. But those are stories for another day.

I dislike getting my haircut.  Not because I think my powers come from grey locks but because of the aforementioned small talk that I cannot do.  I hear the phrase "they say it's going to rain" and I've tuned out. I'm thinking about a 78 things at once at the best of times so tuning out gives me the opportunity to focus on a couple of these while the verge gets trimmed. I miss Gino back in Toronto. He can talk to you about anything and have a great time doing it.  Wonderful guy.  "Tony" here in the city is entertaining because he insults you and everyone that walks in to the joint.  Sadly I don't always have the time to wait for "Tony".  Social butterfly that I am...ha

And you're thinking to yourself, this blog is starting to sound like small talk right about now. Haircuts and insults? Is that the best we can do? I'm getting there, chill already. I like talking about big things. Big ideas, big issues...whatever. I like engagement and authenticity.  Be genuine and original. Be you. And if you're being you know that I am, for sure, going to be me. Which brings us to the subject of filters. Not the ones with yesterdays coffee grounds in them of course.  The ones that prevent "normal" people from saying what they are thinking at any given moment. I have mentioned previously about the I don't give a damn what others think about me attitude I possess, by extension one can assume that this applies to what I say as well.  True story.  Save the filters. I try not to offend anyone and I do not look for confrontation, being happier to let people be. But given the opportunity or reason, I will tell you what I think.  Shocker eh?

As I make the approach to turning 50 I feel that filter melting away day by day. I've been told that when you turn 50 a little switch seems to go off and you are free and unfettered from filters. Woooooohoooooooooo!! Those of you that know me will probably think I have never had a pause button as I can find myself in ridiculous situations because I didn't stop for a millisecond to let my brain catch up to itself.  Oh well. I'm ok with it, you should be as well.

When I first ventured into the dating world I heard that you couldn't talk about religion, politics and past relationships on dates.  Whatever.  If a free flowing conversation goes there then it goes there. We are the sum of all things that have happened to us up to that moment so why in the hell would we pretend it didn't exist.  Our compatibility will be affected greatly if you are a Steven Harper supporter...maybe it's best to get that straight sooner than later. Don't you think. Again, filters melting away in this context.

On the subject of dating...I think I will venture into that category over time as well.  It's a treasure trove of stories...I could write a book on that alone I think. It's a crazy world and a lot of perspective is needed to not only survive in it but learn and grow from it. I look forward to the day that I am forever away from it but for now, it is what it is.  Know what I'm saying.

I think that is all for today's rambling

Ciao
D

Methinks doth quote too much

Yes, again with the quotes...so what.  It's my blog after all, you're not the boss of me.

Trading messages with a friend of mine on Facebook the other day and she dropped this little nugget on me from The Beatles "And in the end ... the love you take is equal to the love you make"  Now, I may have been dropped on my head a few times when I was younger.  I know I hit my head or was hit in the head a number of times for sure, so I am never sure about my memory and some cognitive skills (my way of saying I can be clueless) but at first I didn't know what these lyrics really mean. Mean to me. 

It looks like one of those deceptively easy riddles that really isn't that easy.  I always hated those kind of questions on tests.  Train A leaves Halifax at 9:00 heading west at 120km/h and .....blah blah, what colour is the train?  Get the hell out of here!!  True story, I answered one of these stupid ass questions once with a picture of an elephant on a tightrope.  Ask a stupid question get stupid answer.  Take that. Anyway, I digress, as usual. Back to said lyrics.  After thinking about it I want to believe it's about equality.  Being equal in a relationship as opposed to battling the ever balancing scales. Tipping in your own favour so you can "win".  I think we all do it to varying degrees in all sorts of relationships. And that in itself isn't a bad thing but it can become one over time.  A cumulative erosion if you will that saps the good out of us and out of the relationship.  

Just to be clear, I'm not giving relationship advice....said the divorced guy.  I know nothing except what I know for myself.  Chaos theory rules the roost when it comes to relationships in general so who am I to tell anyone anything.  But if I can make an observation, if we all spent a little time with empathy and understanding as our starting points, maybe, just maybe, we can be a bit happier in the "us" part of our lives. Of course I would be remiss if I didn't quote another lyric from a Beatle "Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans".  Sing it John!!!!  See what I mean about the answers being out there.  Isn't life grand that way?  I can tell you that this, above all else, is what wore away my marriage.  Everything else getting in the way of continuing to build a relationship. Work, money, kids, yard work, cats...and so on.  These things all happen to us daily, that's normal, leaving nothing for the "us" to build on...say hi to my divorce lawyer.  So here I be. What will happen to me in the next half of my life?  I have no idea but I'm looking forward to it happening.

Take a moment to find an interview that Mandy Patinken did on "Q" with that douche bag Jian Gomeshi.  They were talking about The Princess Bride and Mandy said something that struck a deep resonance with me.  Talking about the enduring appeal and magic of the movie and he recalls telling his wife at a screening that he didn't have the time to dream that he would be in something so wonderful.  He hadn't had the chance to even dream about doing this film.  Well, kick me in the throat that is brilliant.  Pie in the sky dreaming that might make your eyes roll...I don't care.  That is exceptional.  That is inspirational.  I don't know what's coming but I am never going to be afraid of it.

"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya.... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JGp7Meg42U

Fake, fake, fake, fake, fake, fake!!

There was an event back in grade nine that has helped shape my entire life since then.  Actually, the event isn't the thing, as I don't actually remember the specifics but my reaction to it.  I was probably being made fun of by the "cool" kids or something similar because my hair wasn't a certain way and my shoes didn't have the requisite tassels on them.  There and then I came to the conclusion that my life was my own and I wouldn't care what other people thought of me.  I would no longer worry about living up to someone else's idea of what I should be.  Truth be told, I was probably always like that but it took until that grade, that age and that moment for me to actually understand the totality of what I was thinking.  Pretty cool I think when you come to realize that a lot of people still haven't figured that out.

I won't lie to you and say that some things said don't bother me or that there isn't anything about me that I wouldn't change, that's just crazy, and not very honest.  But I don't let those things rule my life or cripple my ability to think for myself.  And therein lies the lesson.  I like to think that anyone that knows me knows that I am genuine and authentic.  I hate fake people.  I'm not fake.  So it stands to reason that I don't get along with fake people.  And there are so many of them out there....ugh, come on throat punchers.

Donald Drumph is not fake.  Stupid and dangerous, yes for sure.  But he is genuine and that's why a lot of people that need to be punched in the throat like him.  He has, because of bombast and chutzpah he has tapped into simmering hatred, disgust and desire for change.  Conversely, on the other side of the political spectrum, Bernie Sander (Go Bernie) has done the same.  Let us compare and contrast....never mind, you should know the difference.  Bernie, also no fake.  I don't know if I will ever understand "fakeness" and all that it entails and maybe I'm not supposed to.  I'm happy with who I am and that should be enough for all.  If not, please read any post that I have made...you have my response.

So, what's the point pontification man?  Well, here are some things that I like and now I'm sharing it with you.  I can't say non existent readers any more because I have shared this with a few people and it seems that I have been read in the US and Europe (Hey Poland and Ukraine!!!)  Who knew?

The things I am going to admit to liking or showing an interest in....hmmmmm  I like the show Friends, my little guilty pleasure that I share with my youngest daughter.  There are some chick flicks that I like, not many but I don't dismiss them out right.  I have become enamoured with Choir, Choir, Choir out of Toronto and their You Tube videos...so much so that I may search out something similar here in Halifax.  I can't sing but I enjoy singing.  Ask the lady walking crossing the cross walk in front of me yesterday....good laughs. Hopefully I made that part of her day enjoyable.  And, this one is for you Daveda and Scott, I do like a little ABBA.  Saccharine coated bubblegum nonsense?  Sure. So what, some of the songs are catchy and it always brings a smile to my face when I can torment Daveda with an unexpected ABBA song in her ear or in an email.  She is after all, the Dancing Queen.  Scott will probably run into me with his Ducati Monster and ridicule me for the rest of my days, but he will always be the wus.

I'm sure there are many more that I can share, but all in good time.

That all for today

Ciao
D

Change changing places

I wonder how many songs written are about change.  Not even close to how many have been written about love I'm sure but I can rhyme off a few from the top of my head so I suspect there is a fair amount.  Like death and taxes, change is one of those given constants...always to be counted on happening in one way or another.  To some an unbearable stress point and to others, like myself, no big deal.  Or is it?

I like to think of myself as someone that adapts easily to the ever changing landscape around me. Personally, professionally, existentially...whatever.  Right?  Yes, mostly.  The tumult that my life has been over the past few years, what with divorce, cancer and my kids growing up without my permission I have had some changes.  I handled most of them well.  And by that I mean, I'm not in a position where I look back with regret. Have things been hard?  Yep, you bet.  I have learned and by extension grown because of these hard things.  That's probably my nature, and I'm glad it is, but I wonder if I am over simplifying things.  Am I glossing over events as an unknown defence mechanism on my part.  I hope not but I do now ask that question of myself...what of the road not taken?

Two things this week have prompted this little post.  My sister has developed an issue with her eye. Thankfully not like my eye issue but certainly difficult to deal with for all involved.  My poor mother is probably beside herself.  And, sadly, my girlfriend and I have gone our own ways.  We simply couldn't get back the magic we once enjoyed.  These are changes.  Like a pinball bouncing around inside a machine, it sometimes feels like there is no plan, no direction known...just reaction to bumpers and flippers.  Look at me driving down this highway enjoying the scenery....crap, a pony just crossed the divide.  Now what?????

I don't want to get into the whole God and religion debate here.  I believe to each is own.  Just don't presume to convert me or pass judgement on me.  You'll get an earful and then some.  Just random thoughts hopefully begging more discussion...I feel I will come back to this post.

In the mean time....hug your mom

Ciao
D

I quote, therefore I am

If you've read this far you may have come to the realization that I am enamoured with other peoples observations on life and by paying homage to them I am incorporating their thoughts and words into my own.  Sometimes through osmosis and sometimes through what one can  best describe as a piano being dropped on your head.  So when I quote I am paying one of the highest of tributes that I can think of...and my God, the material to draw from is vast.

I love wine.  Correction, I love good wine.  And one of the best things I have ever heard about wine is from the movie Sideways.  A wonderful little film with the equally wonderful Paul Giamatti.  The film is rife with little nuggets of wisdom and humour, think "I'm not drinking any fucking Merlot" But I love, love, love this piece where Maya talks about the life of wine...

"No, I- I like to think about the life of wine.

How it's a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it's an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I'd opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks, like your '61. And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline.

And it tastes so fucking good."

Could that be a metaphor for life?  Growing old, learning new things, our experiences making us who we are today, and how we will be different tomorrow...a year from now, 10 years from now.  The same but different.  The people that have passed through our lives and the ones that are still there.  I spent sometime this weekend catching up with some friends that I haven't seen in a while.  Sipping some coffee and chatting about whatever crosses our minds.  I enjoyed it thoroughly.  No agendas, no games and no worries.  Simply enjoying each others company and the spring like day.  Life can be grand, if we let it be.  Those kinds of experiences are what interest me now.  Learning about people and the world and in turn about myself.  All part of the process I suspect and one that I am truly enjoying.

A while back I asked you to remember to ask me about "we just decided to".  Well, you all failed. Not one of you reminded me, and since my memory is spotty the fault is all yours in my failing to talk about this...haha  Anyhooooooooo.  To touch back on Mr Sorkin and his show The Newsroom.  Charlie Skinner gave a little speech to Will that went thus..

"Charlie: For a long time now, I badly wanted to watch the news on my TV at night. Then it occurred to me-- I run a news division.

Will: She's indifferent to ratings, competition, corporate concerns, and, generally speaking, consequences.

Charlie: Good, 'cause you just described my job. I'm Don Quixote, you can be Sancho, she'll be Dulcinea, and everyone out there is the horse.

Will: Donkey. How did you know about that conversation?

Charlie: I know everything. Anchors having an opinion isn't a new phenomenon. Murrow had one and that was the end of McCarthy. Cronkite had one and that was the end of Vietnam.

Will: I'm not those guys.

Charlie: I'm betting all my money on you're wrong. You know what, kiddo? In the old days of about 10 minutes ago, we did the news well. You know how? We just decided to."

How awesome is that? In light of the train wreck known as the American presidential elections and all the nonsense it brings forth, one wishes for that.  Simply deciding to do the right things and actually doing it.  My fervent hope is that Bernie Sanders ideas get the just examination they deserve if he can't be president.  Better still would be the ideas actually being implemented....how?  Because they decided to.

Ciao

D